A Devil's Shame
by Lady Feylene
Summary: Peter Pettigrew turns himself in. (Extremely mild slash hints)


  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. No money is being made off of this.

  
  


Warning: Slash.. Slash ahead. Very, *very* mild. But it's still there. 

  
  


Dedication: For Tara, and the whole Peter mailing list. Look! I finally wrote one! And Tara, I used the nice quote!

  
  


Author's Note: Damn the snow and the cold. I hate it all, I really do. But it lets me stay home from work and churn out fics. :-)

  
  


A Devil's Shame

  
  
  
  


It was a...difficult time. Difficult may have been an understatement. It was a horrible time. It was an awful time. It was...

  
  


It doesn't matter. I sit here, and I look back, and I know it doesn't matter. Why am I here? Because I finally found my courage. I'm doing 'the right thing'. The right thing. I don't think there is such a thing. 

  
  


He's staring at me. His eyes aren't angry anymore, they're just dark. He hasn't said a word to me in an hour, he's just sat there staring at me. I don't mind. I don't like the silent tension in the air, but it's better then being yelled at.

  
  


Dumbledore didn't yell. He just looked at me sadly and nodded. I felt horrible. Like when your little, and your parents say they aren't mad, just disappointed. That's worse. I felt like I had let everyone down. Okay, so I had. But that's beside the point.

  
  


"You fixed yourself up."

  
  


It was the first thing Sirius had said to me. I glanced up, my mind struggling to wrap around the words.

  
  


"Oh. Yeah." I had put on a bit of the weight I had lost, and a tonic had brought my hair back, thick and...well, it had brought it back.

  
  


"I don't know why I can't forgive you." Sirius was staring at me very intently now. "I'm a hypocrite. If I had done something horrible, but justified in my mind, I'd want to be forgiven. I'd want my friends to look at things from my point of view. So why can't I look at things from your point of view? I've done some awful things...and I was always forgiven. For god's sake, I...you know...what's the word?" Sirius paused, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I set everything up, so it happened. So why not blame me? But no one does. And that's all you did, to. You just manipulated events. I'm as guilty as you. But where I feel I am entitled to forgiveness, all I an do is hate you and blame you. It's fucked up."

  
  


"It is." I nod. Sirius has a really good point. Why am I so different?

  
  


"Want to know what I think Peter?" He leans closer, voice taking on a conspiratorial whisper. "I think there *is* no right or wrong. Or if there is, it's none of our damn business. What gives us to dictate what's right, what's moral, what's just? Only god has that power, and I don't even think he exists. Maybe he used to, but not anymore. And he doesn't, then there really is no right or wrong, and we can all swing through the trees, throwing our own crap, and not care.

  
  


"You know, a part of me wants to forgive you. You're still Peter. You didn't change, just because you turned out to be a turncoat. The things we did before, they didn't just go away. Nothing's different. I guess...I guess it's just easy to blame you. That way I don't strain my mind, trying to place blame, and guilt, and fault. Truth is...what happened...James and lily...It wasn't my fault. I wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. It was just things, that happened. And things need people, otherwise they're nothing." He's talking very fast, and his eyes have an almost wild look to them. "I've thought about this a lot. Azkaban...it changes you. I don't blame you anymore, but I still hate you. Sort of. It's hard to explain."

  
  


"I don't hate you." It's a stupid thing to say, but it's all that comes to my mind.

  
  


"Why should you?" Sirius shrugs. "We're none of us saints. Remmie likes to think he is, but he's dying to play the martyr, and we both know it. He's too caught up in what's right and wrong. And he doesn't even think for himself, he just lets society dictate it. He needs to wake up and live for himself." He looks at me suddenly, as if a lightbulb has gone off inside of his head. "Is that what you did?"

  
  


"What do you mean?" I'm not really sure what he's getting at.

  
  


"What did he offer you, that was so great? Status, money, power, sex...every man has their price. Some are just higher then others. I'm not above being bought, I just don't know what the price is. No one's made any offers. What was yours?"

  
  


"I don't know." I shrugged, embarrassed. It sounds so cold when he says it like that. Price. Like a piece of...well, something. Bought and sold like a cow. "I guess...a little bit of everything."

  
  


"Yeah." Sirius just shrugs. "I'm...I'm uh, sorry about what I said. In the Shrieking Shack. You may have fucked up, but you're still Peter."

  
  


"Yeah. Just...watered down a little." I give a nervous a little laugh. Sirius almost smiles. For a second, everything's okay. Then I remember where I am, and what's going to happen. I blink back tears, not wanting to cry.

  
  


"Scared?" He asks me. I give a bitter laugh.

  
  


"Of course I am. I know what's going to happen. The ministry's going to come, and ask me all sorts of questions, and then they're going to take me away and give me to the Dementors."

  
  


"You won't survive Azkaban." It's a simple statement.

  
  


"I won't make it to Azkaban." They'll just do to me what they were going to do to Sirius. Swallow my soul. Negate me. A fate worse then death.

  
  


"Yeah." Sirius sighs. "This is hard, you know. It's hard seeing you like this."

  
  


"I know." I don't like myself. I don't like what I've become. I'm glad I was able to get away, and turn myself in...but now I'm regretting it. I don't want to die. Or be soulless. 

  
  


"But...you thought it was a good idea at the time, didn't you? What's that saying? 'Better to be at the right hand of the devil then at the foot of God.' Or something like that."

  
  


"Something like that." I agree. I feel like a huge weight has settled on my soul. Something black and cold and icy. "I don't think God or the devil have much to do with anything..."

  
  


"They have everything to do with everything." Sirius says. "It's all good and evil, like I was saying before. Right and wrong. God is good and right, Satan is evil and wrong."

  
  


"Satan wasn't always bad." I say, a little petulantly. "He *was* an angel."

  
  


"Was." Sirius points out. "Now...now's he just ultimate evil."

  
  


"Well...Even the devil feels shame, when he remembers he used to have wings. I heard that, somewhere...there's no such thing as all evil..." I sigh, looking down at my hands. I'm tired of it all. Just so sick and tired...

  
  


"Maybe..." Sirius says, and sighs as though frustrated. "Look...maybe we can work something out. If this isn't some sort of fucked up trick..."

  
  


"It isn't. Unless Voldemort put some bomb in me that I don't know about." I shrug. I did all this on my own accord. He can't mean what he says. He's just being nice. 

  
  


"Well, I'll see what I can do. And if not...I'll...I'll stay with you."

  
  


"Thanks." It really is a touching offer. I sniffle, and Sirius places his hand over mine. I can feel my shoulders start to twitch, and I swallow back a sob.

  
  


"Hey...don't cry yet." Sirius says, wiping away my tears. I forgot how gentle he could be. "Not until there's a good reason to."

  
  


"'K." I stifle my sobs, and get myself under control. It takes a few breaths, but I manage it.

  
  


"I really did love you, you know."

  
  


"Really?" I look up at him. I had always thought I was just a handy substitute. What he could have, when he couldn't have what he really wanted.

  
  


"Yeah." He nods, looking almost child like. "I probably didn't show it very well."

  
  


"No." I shook my head. Calling out the wrong name during intercourse didn't do much to make me feel wanted.

  
  


"I'm sorry. I did love you. I didn't want to, but I did. And I know you loved me."

  
  


"More then you could imagine." He had been my world. 

  
  


"Did you...?" Sirius pauses, again staring at me with a deep intensity. "Did you hate James, because I loved him?"

  
  


"No." I shake my head. How ridiculous! But...Sirius' mind works differently then mine. "It wasn't his fault. He didn't *make* you love him, you just did. I never hated James."

  
  


"Did you hate any of us?"

  
  


"Not then." I shrug. "I hated you for a little while, but it wasn't real. I just thought I did." Emotions are funny things. I can never tell if they're real, or if they're just there because I tell myself they are.

  
  


"I don't want to hate you." He really doesn't. I can see it in his eyes. He still has such pretty eyes. 

  
  


"But you do."

  
  


"I don't know anymore. I don't hate you right now."

  
  


"Right now, I'm not what you hate." It's probably the most philosophical conversation either of us have ever had.

  
  


"No, you aren't. You're just you." 

  
  


"I've always been me." But I understand what he means. I'm calm, and relatively composed. I'm not crying-much. And I'm not begging, or pleading, or groveling. 

  
  


"You know what I mean." He shakes his head. "Look...I just wanted to get that all out. No matter what happens."

  
  


"Do you really think I have a chance?" The thought that I might be spared the Dementor's Kiss is too much for me to take. What if it's true? Whatif Dumbledore takes pity on me? 

  
  


"I do." Sirius nods. "Dumbledore's a good man."

  
  


"He is." He has a point. I might walk out of this after all. I might live. Whole and complete. Yes, I'll have to live with the guilt of what I've done, but that's nothing new. I've been living with that for years. It's comfortable now. I'm used to it. I need it, almost. Like Remus needs his lycanthropy. It's my crutch, it's what I fall back on. It...defines me. A sad thought that. To be defined by guilt. 

  
  


"Everything is going to be okay." 

It's what you tell a small child, regardless of what the truth is. The truth...I'm not going to see another day. Not as me, anyway. As some soulless husk. Seeing, existing, but not living. Like being a vegetable. I don't want to be a vegetable! I drop my head into my hands, and Sirius comes over to me and puts his arms around me. It's nice, to be held. I can't remember the last time I was held. I just sort of snuggle up against him, and let him rock me. I don't cry. I want to be brave. And...well, for Sirius I think I can be brave. And there is a little bit of hope. Dumbledore is a fair man, and a kind man...

  
  


The door opens. Whatever's going to happen, it's going to happen now. Sirius tighten's his grip on me, and I look up, eyes still dry. I can take it. I can handle it. I'm doing the right thing, and that's all that matters. I don't have anything to be guilty about anymore. I feel Sirius kiss the top of my head, and we both look to Dumbledore. No matter what he says, everything's going to be fine...

  
  


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End file.
